Condemnation and Closure
by Harleyzgirl
Summary: My "gut" reaction to a certain scene at the end of Big Sea  ***Spoiler Alert***


Disclaimer: I have no claim to Criminal Minds. Simply borrowing them. No infringement of any kind is intended.

A/N: SPOILER ALERT!

This fic is a direct gut reaction to Derek's "fib" to his Aunt in episode 6x23, Big Sea.

FYI in my universe Kevin is long gone before this point in the season.

This story is unbetaed so all mistakes are mine.

Would love to know your thoughts on my way of bringing it all full circle. Hope you enjoy. Harlie

Condemnation and Closure

"_He picked her out, Auntie."_

"_He did?"_

"_Yeah. Yeah, he did."_

"_Oh! Oh, thank you, Derek…"_

The sobs of his aunt followed Derek as he startled awake. For the third time in as many nights, his Aunt Yvonne's anguished tears for her lost child filled his mind and spilled over into wakefulness. Worse yet, as he scanned the shadows of his room he avoided the corner of his dresser where a picture of his cousin Cindy smiling was perched amongst others of his loved ones. Regardless, he felt condemned.

Yes, his aunt at last had some closure and would, he hoped, in time begin to live again; take care of herself; heal. But, how much would his gift end up costing him? He knew there was no way he'd ever truly rest until he had found Cindy. And, now there was the matter of Paullena DelRay-Johnstone.

Twenty-three year old Paullena had deferred admission to Columbia's postgraduate program in Neurobiology and Behavior to take a year, possibly more, to be free. Free from the ongoing pressures of university; free from the expectations of her affluent parents; free to pursue her desire to live carefree instead of in the box her genius had built around her. Paullena, whose remains had been pumped onto a beach in Jacksonville, matched through DNA, but remained "Unclaimed" because Derek had delayed the notification of next of kin while he tried to figure a way around his aunt.

Aunt Yvonne wanted to lay Cindy to rest at last. Derek knew that was impossible. The reality of his actions was eating him alive.

Frustrated and knowing the chances of getting back to sleep were nil, Derek rolled to the edge of his mattress furthest from his dresser and got out. Foregoing his discarded clothing in a heap on the floor and his robe hanging on the back of his bedroom door, he exited his room on a quest for something to numb his brain. Silencing his thoughts, if only for a few hours, might be just the reprieve he needed to figure a way out of the mess he'd made.

Having poured himself three fingers of Chivas Regal® neat, he eyed the hammock in his backyard. A quick glance at the microwave's clock established it was late, already after two in the morning. Another brief glimpse outside confirmed that all of his surrounding neighbours had their lights off and were likely enjoying a night's rest. Shrugging, Derek shut off the light in the kitchen and made his way out to the hammock. Perhaps a combination of the whisky and the warm late spring breeze would be enough to lull him to sleep.

An hour later, he'd made a trip back inside his house for the remainder of the scotch and a blanket. He didn't remember the hammock being so rough against his skin when he was clothed.

Nursing his another refill, he was slower on reaction time than normal when he noticed headlights in his driveway. He listened, but didn't bother to move when he heard the opening and closing of his front door through the partially closed patio door. He thought about calling out to his midnight visitor when he heard the distinct scrap and thump of shoes being removed and dropped to the floor. He realized too late that he likely should cover up as he listened to the person walk through the house, not find him and make their way to his present location.

By now, he was certain he knew who it was, but still he stayed where he was; sprawled in his hammock, naked as the day he was born, sipping fingers eleven and twelve of the eighteen year old whisky.

"There you…are." Penelope stopped just mere inches from the hammock.

Even in the dark he could make out the charming blush that rushed up to hue her skin a brilliant pink.

"There you both are! Um…wow…uh, Hot Stuff, mind covering up? I got something important to tell you."

"No. I'm good. What brings up by at this ungodly hour?"

"Seriously!" She managed to move her gaze that had been riveted to his junk up to meet his gaze.

"What?" Derek had the scotch to thank for his cavalier sounding attitude, but already his body had begun to respond to Penelope's proximity and reaction to his "buff" attire.

"It looks like you're laying on a blanket. Can't you flip a corner or something?" She used her hands to demonstrate, even as her blush deepened to red.

"Baby Girl, if my lack of clothing is bothering you so much feel free to strip. I won't complain."

"What's gotten into you?"

"Sadly, not you for lack of trying!"

"Derek?"

Penelope was scarlet by now, yet he wasn't surprised that she wasn't backing down from his outrageous comments. Still, she hadn't begun to give into his request either so he decided it was time to get back to why she was at his home at nearly four in the morning.

"Baby, why are you here at this hour? Couldn't sleep either? Want some?" He pulled the bottle of Chivas Regal® from his side and held it up to her.

"Are you drunk?" 

"Not yet."

"Well, perhaps what I'm about to tell you will help sober you up."

Derek sat up in the hammock, dangling a leg on each side to keep from rolling and being dumped on the deck in a heap. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, I know what you did for your Aunt Yvonne and although noble, sweet and touching, it was damn stupid!"

Derek arched an eyebrow at Penelope's statement.

"Before you go getting all bent out of shape, I get why. I know how worried you've been about your Aunt Yvonne and in theory, I agree with why you did it. That being said, I've seen what it's done to you in just the last few days. So, I've been working to fix it."

Derek's other eyebrow rose to meet its mate. "P, what have you done?"

"I think I found Cindy."

"You what?" Derek's reply came out louder than he'd intended. Lights flashed on in two of his neighbours' houses, but his reaction time was improving and he was already out of the hammock and ushering Penelope back inside before he figured any of them got to a window to get a bird's eye view of him.

Once inside he shut and locked the patio door, without turning around because he was too busy questioning Penelope.

"How? Where? Is she…is Cindy dead?"

Penelope busied herself making coffee and then burying her head in his fridge as she replied, "Blake Wells wasn't a complete bust. I've been working on your cousin's case in my spare time, every time your aunt calls. I look at the case the team is working from your aunt's perspective and try to dig a little deeper on her behalf."

Derek moved to stand on his side of the refrigerator door, eyeing the items Penelope dropped on the counter. Finally, when a jar of pickles nearly took a nosedive off the edge he scooted around her still bent frame to rescue it and take up a new position at her side. "So, how did that help you to find my cousin? Or at least believe you may have."

Penelope turned her head, came into direct view of his semi-erect penis and sighed, deeply. "Derek, please. I'll tell you everything you want to know if you will please go and put on the baggiest pair of sweats you own, Hell, add an oversized sweatshirt, too."

"Distracted?" He couldn't help his smile or the feeling of triumph, however brief that passed through him at her response.

"Yes! Are you happy now? Yes, I find your nakedness or more specifically your arousal highly distracting. Damn it, I'm not here to scratch an itch. Get dressed!"

Derek nodded, tapped her nose and then left just long enough to shrug into his robe and belt it, tight. "Better," he asked, returning to the kitchen to find her pouring coffee. The counter was empty; the refrigerator closed once more.

"As long as everything stays covered it'll do for now."

Taking the cup of coffee she was holding out to him, Derek followed Penelope over to the kitchen table. "Enough with the suspense, Baby Girl. Tell me what you've uncovered."

She swallowed the sip of coffee in her mouth, a slight grimace marring her features briefly; suggesting the too hot liquid likely scalded her tongue. "Ow! Serves me right."

"You okay? Need me to kiss it better?"

She waved him off. "You're not making it easy to stay on topic, Stud Muffin."

"Point taken. I'll behave," Derek said, taking a drink from his own mug.

"Good!" Penelope pushed her cup away before speaking again, "I thought about how I would approach each UnSub if I wanted to know if they had killed my daughter and that's what lead me to start looking for commonalities between Blake Wells and Dexter Hubert."

"Cindy's stalker?"

"Yeah." Penelope was fidgeting. Derek moved his chair closer and covered her hands with his own.

"And?"

"That's how I found Cindy."

"I don't understand."

Both Hubert and Wells shared a common link in some rather off kilter interests. Their credit card history showed frequent charges to a private club in Charleston called Extinguish where they were both members."

"The snuff film house? Didn't Cooper's team help shut them down late last year?" Derek held Penelope's gaze as he awaited her answer.

"One in the same." Penelope turned her hands over in Derek's loosened grip and held on when she felt him start to shake.

"Did you find the film?" His voice was quiet, little more than a whisper, all evidence of the teasing gone.

"No, but there were two dates: the day Cindy disappeared and the day before Hubert killed himself when both he and Wells were at the club."

"Dear God…was he…" Derek stopped and took several breaths before he continued, "Could Wells have been telling the truth that Cindy cried for me?"

Penelope stood and closed the distance between herself and Derek. She held him while he sobbed.

"I don't know if he was even there. But, D, there were sixty-four urns unearthed a few weeks ago from the rubble when the building was demolished. Forensics has been working to identify the remains, but you can imagine how much harder it is when they're only working with ashes, teeth, and bone fragments of victims who were predominantly prostitutes, runaways and those who chose to live off the grid."

"But?" Derek raised his head from where Penelope held it against her chest to meet her gaze.

"But, I do know that sixteen of them were the remains of African American women and four contained molars. I requested a copy of Cindy's dental records and forwarded her DNA from the brush you got from your aunt on this last case. You'll know by tomorrow."

Derek dropped his head back against Penelope and tightened his grip on her. They remained like that in silence for several minutes before Derek spoke."

"Stay."

"I'm not going anywhere," Penelope said, gently running her hands over his shoulders.

"I-"

"Derek, don't speak. I understand," she said, resting both her hands at the base of his head and tilting it back. As she looked into his eyes, he could clearly see the desire in her eyes. As strong as the emotion was, another: uncertainty, was there too. It was war, without a doubt.

"Pen, no. Not like this," Derek said, as he released her from his embrace, stood and put distance between them.

"Oh! I…I thought- All your comments…I'll be in the guest room if you need…if you want…Shit!" Penelope was once again flushed bright red. Flashing him a sad smile, she brushed past Derek on her way toward the bedrooms.

He caught her right arm before she could make good her escape. "Baby Girl, slow down. You didn't misread anything. I just want a better transition than all this for us. I'm a mess."

She nodded with a slight smile, as their gazes met, then said, "True, but you're my mess."

A gentle smile of response brought with it a tender look to his eyes. "Baby, I love you all the more for wanting to help me forget, but Pen, when we get together, and we will, I want us to be focused solely on us and nothing else at the time."

She returned to his personal space and relaxed as he closed her back into a loose embrace. "You're awfully sure of yourself, Hot Stuff."

"Only because I believe in us. I love you. Don't ever forget or doubt that."

Laying a hand over his robe-covered chest, Penelope brushed the area over Derek's heart as she replied, "I love you, too, D. You make certain to remember and never question that. But, don't make me wait too much longer please."

He nodded, before drawing her body fully against his own. She took advantage of the gap in his loosened robe created by their movements and wrapped her arms around him within. The action elicited a soft moan from Derek at the contact. When he lowered his head to kiss the top of hers as usual, she drew back slightly to meet his gaze.

"Good night, D," she whispered, a breathy catch adding far more than her words ever could.

In response Derek shifted, pressing himself more firmly into her body before lowering his head farther and capturing her lips in a gentle, yet no less passionate kiss. When their lips parted several moments later he answered, "Good night, P."

Easing apart they clasped hands and she went with him without question, as he led her into his bedroom. Unlike earlier, when his eyes fell upon the framed picture of his cousin Cindy the feeling of condemnation was gone. He was as confident in Penelope's findings as he was in her love and that was more than enough to grant him, soon his Aunt Yvonne and the DelRay-Johnstone family the closure they all desired.

The End.


End file.
